Shadow of Eyes
by anonymous Jewel
Summary: Everyone knows the saying: our past makes us who we are today. If this is true, what exactly happened in Mai Kujaku's past to make her who she is?
1. Prologue

_**Shadow of Eyes**_

**Prologue, Part 1**

**"_Who am I? Are you sure you want to know? The story of my life is not for the faint of heart...If someone said it was a happy little tale, if someone told you I was just your average, ordinary girl without a care in the world, then someone lied. There's much more to me than meets the eye...Deep within these shadowed eyes, I keep secrets beyond your imagining. But let me assure you, this story, like many other stories worth telling, starts out on a dark, cold, rainy night..."

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**"EEEEEYYYYYAAAAAHHHHH!" the piercing scream of Sylvia Valentine reverberated throughout the household. The shrill, nearly ear-shattering sound was merely shrugged off by the maids of the Valentine estate, after all, they were quite used to the dramatic ways of their mistress by now. Little did they know that something substantially more serious was actually occurring at that very moment...**

**"No, no, no...This can't be happening...It can't be true!" exclaimed the panicking woman in hushed tones, a pregnancy test clutched loosely between her trembling fingers. With a violent tremor of her hand, it fell to the floor, never leaving her horrified stare. Sylvia backed away slowly, unsteadily, and sank to the floor, distraught and trembling, her eyes fixed upon the tiny positive sign on the pregnancy test. She shuddered and gasped for breath as she desperately tried to calm herself, but to no avail. Closing her eyes and resting her head against the uncomfortable hardness of the wall, she lost herself in tortured thoughts.**

**She was pregnant... Her worst fear was coming true, before her very eyes, her perfect world was crashing down around her. She opened her eyes to slits and peered at the pregnancy test, still lying where she had dropped it before. _It's strange_, she thought, _that I would suffer so much pain and torment, because of so small a thing_...Suddenly, she took action. In a flash she reached over, steadied herself waveringly to her feet, and threw the only evidence of her pregnancy in the nearest trash. She then raced off to her luxurious bedroom suite to quickly grab and throw on her fur coat, ignoring the sound of rain pitter-pattering against the windows and thunder crashing and booming overhead. As she began to strut back through the main entrance hallway, a picture hanging upon the wall from her latest and most successful photo shoot caught her attention, and she paused for a moment to observe it.**

**She was posing provocatively in a string bikini that was more string than bikini, a seductive smirk and a sexy wink graced her notoriously beautiful features. Wildly wavy, untamed locks, the color of the brilliant golden rays of sunlight during a sunrise, danced in the wind's embrace, and stray strands of gold lingered against her cheeks, framing her face and giving her the fierce look of an Amazon beauty. Her crystalline cerulean eyes gleamed with the light from the sun, as it set in an array of gold and magenta from behind, making her seem ethereal, more like a goddess than a woman. Sylvia traced her eyes down the picture, examining her perfect body, shaped by years of obsessive working out and watching her diet. Her face contorted firmly in grim resolve and confirmation; she now knew what had to be done... Whirling hastily away from the idolized picture, she continued her determined stride down the hallway.**

**"Royce," she barked sternly, "What time does James return from the state conference?"**

**The timid butler quavered under his mistress's intense glare, even though it was not meant for him, "A-a-around eight o'clock, M-Mrs. Valentine."**

**"Are you sure?"she asked forcefully, this time advancing towards him without diminishing her glare, and ignoring the poor man's pitiful shuddering. This time words failed him, and he merely nodded weakly.**

**Satisfied well enough with this answer, Mrs. Valentine stomped towards the front doors, gripped the handlebars roughly, and hurled both doors open, causing them to bang ominously against the walls. She then proceeded out into the pouring rain. Having regained at least some sense of dignity, Royce rushed out into the now tremendous thunderstorm after his mistress, wincing as the doors slammed closed, nearly hitting him on the way out. "Mrs. Valentine, Mrs. Valentine," he called.**

**She appeared to ignore him, or perhaps the falling rain and the crashing thunder had distorted her hearing. Either way, Royce watched in horror as the crazed woman sprinted through the storm, no doubt ruining her expensive stiletto heeled leather boots and fur jacket in the rain, as she finally reached her destination: a limousine. Sylvia swiftly opened the door, forcefully slammed it after her, and sped off, the tires screeching against the slick driveway. Royce stood, mind-boggled, and watched her drive away, fading away, disappearing into the distance. The butler swept the rain mixed with sweat off his brow, and sighed, "Whew, that woman has frightful mood swings..." He then retreated back into the safe warmth and dryness of the mansion.

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**Less than two minutes later, the front doors were loudly hurled open once again, except, this time, they revealed a sodden, and noticeably confused Mr. James Valentine. Once again, Royce was scared to death and rather dismayed at this turn of events; if this was not his job, and if he was not required to be painstakingly formal, he would have groaned and grumbled audibly.**

**"Royce!" the flustered man yelled, looking quite ridiculous in a soaking wet business suit, holding a briefcase, and dripping chocolate colored locks partially concealing his emerald green eyes. "What the hell is going on! I just saw another limousine pass by at the same time I was returning here, and I don't have to take a wild guess to know who's in it!"**

**"I'm sorry sir, but Mrs. Valentine just took off suddenly, without warning! She didn't even call for a driver!" the butler urgently retorted.**

**"What? She told me that she would be ready and waiting when I got home today, she _knows_ we have a dinner party to attend at nine tonight..." Mr. Valentine muttered to himself as if trying to solve some unclear and difficult mystery. "Where on earth could she be running off to?" He massaged his stressed temples and sighed, "I'm going to clean up..." He then promptly marched in the direction of the nearest bathroom.**

**Setting his briefcase aside, he stared grimly in the gleaming bathroom mirror at his sodden, stressed, yet still handsome reflection, and groaned, reaching for a tissue to swipe away the congealing water droplets on his face. While he was discarding the wet tissue, he noticed a curious-looking object down at the bottom of the trash bin. Yes, it was the pregnancy test. As realization struck him, a look of utter shock and amazement passed across his features as he leaned over to examine it more closely. Seeing that it was positive, his heart started beating rapidly, his breath falling short. A million questions burst into his mind at once: _Who? When? Why? How?_..._It's impossible! There is no way that Sylvia could be pregnant! After all, she had a tubal ligation awhile ago to avoid this very situation_, he pondered to himself. He tried in vain to convince himself that it was merely one of the maids... _No, _his conscience nagged him persistently, _You know it's true, deep down, you can't deny that feeling, you know your wife's pregnant._ Clutching his forehead in dismay, he released a pent up sigh, attempting to calm himself in order to think logically about the situation.**

**James knew how much it would devastate his self-absorbed, and egotistical wife when she found out she was pregnant; it would drive her to the edge of insanity. Sylvia's career as a famed supermodel meant everything in the world to her, because her career gave her a sense of independence and freedom in a celebrity world filled with flashing cameras and glaring lights. It was what she had built her whole life upon, and he knew she would sooner kill herself than lose her career. James knew her better than anyone else, so he also knew that when she got into one of these impulsive, crazy moods, that it was never a good sign. Suddenly, he figured everything out; the mystery of her barging out of the house and driving away in a limousine all made sense now..."She wouldn't have possibly...would she?" he whispered in concern.**

**For the second time in one night, a deafening shout echoed through the Valentine household, "ROYCE! Get me a limo right this instant!" Poor Royce... Only but a minute later, Mr. Valentine promptly jumped into the leather backseat of the limousine and pointed Royce, who had involuntarily and reluctantly become James' limousine driver for the night, in the direction of St. James Hospital. The limousine raced off at the driver's command, with a roar of its engine and a screech of its tires, eventually lost from all sight, enveloped in the darkness, the booming thunder, crashing lightning, and pounding rainfall of the storm...

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**Meanwhile...**

**Mrs. Valentine shakily and cautiously creaked open the door that led into the abortion facility in St. James Hospital. She glanced around the depressing, sterile atmosphere of the hospital almost timidly, but the famed Sylvia Valentine was _never_ timid. Just barely mustering up a countenance of confidence and determination, she made her way towards the check-in desk, her stiletto boots clicking sharply against the tile, leaving rainwater puddles in her wake. The disgustingly friendly and perky nurse seated at the desk chirped, "How may I help you?"**

**A shadow cast itself across Sylvia's face as she arrogantly demanded, "I need to see...Dr. Goldberg."**

**The nurse's face lit up in silent understanding, "Do you have an appointment?" she bubbled.**

**"No," Sylvia replied darkly, hoping that the young nurse wouldn't read too much into the situation.**

**"All righty then, I'll just need you to fill out this form, and Dr. Goldberg will be with you soon," the nurse replied cheerfully, paying no mind to the frustrated scowl that was slowly and gradually transfixing itself upon Mrs. Valentine's face.**

**Sylvia wordlessly accepted the form papers and pen that the smiling nurse thrust at her, and went to take a seat in one of the cushiony waiting room chairs. As the dejected woman sat down and released a soft, monotone grumble while filling out the form, the young nurse was given a chance to observe her more carefully. The girl could've sworn that the gorgeous blonde woman in the waiting room looked familiar. She wondered to herself why the woman was drenched with rainfall when she entered the facility, and then even further wondered what had compelled her to come to this specific section of the hospital in the first place. _In fact_, she realized inwardly, _That woman looks almost exactly like...like Sylvia Valentine, the famous supermodel! Oh my God! Could it really be her?_**

**Suddenly, Mrs. Valentine stood up from her seat and sashayed over to the desk, awkwardly handing the completed forms to the nurse, who was now outwardly gawking at her with a mixture of wonder and awe. The girl shook her head slightly as she glanced over the papers, dispelling the ridiculous notion from her mind. Reading over the name that Sylvia had written at the top of the hospital form, she blabbered brightly, "Thank you...Mrs. Kujaku, the doctor will be with you in just a minute..."**

**Sylvia watched slightly amused as the cheery nurse with her unwavering enthusiasm practically skipped away, then resumed to waiting for her appointment. Heaving a sigh, she impatiently grabbed a celebrity gossip magazine from off the counter and began flipping through the articles absentmindedly. She paused in her page flipping as a particular article caught her eye: "Sylvia and James Valentine, The Perfect Celebrity Couple?" Underneath this flashy title was a photo of James and her at a recent charity event; as usual, they were impeccably and elegantly dressed, arms entwined romantically, smiles of fake happiness imprinted unwillingly upon their faces. Sylvia's observing gaze turned from the image of her husband to herself; in the photo, her eyes appeared to be almost dead-looking, expressionless, soulless, despite the smile of ecstasy planted on her face... The magazine was swiftly thrown down onto the tiled floor, there it laid, fluttering open to a different picture of her kissing her husband's cheek, fake smile still upon her face. Mrs. Valentine averted her gaze as an older, more mature-looking nurse approached towards the glassy, crystalline, and transparent door that led from the waiting room to the facility beyond. The handle turned, and the door opened to reveal the nurse, who promptly spoke, "Mrs. Kujaku..."

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**Approximately fifteen or so minutes later, James Valentine burst loudly through the exact same door that his wife had entered through previously. Right away, without thinking, he marched hectically up to the desk and quickly asked the same peppy nurse, "Has anyone by the last name of Valentine been here recently?"**

**Absolutely unfazed by the desperate expression on his face, the nurse retorted, as if giving a well-rehearsed speech, "I'm sorry sir, but we are not allowed to disclose personal or private information of any kind. The information we receive is expected to remain confidential at all times, despite...What are you doing!" The girl stared furiously at Mr. Valentine, who had reached over the desk counter during her little speech, which he had ignored, and grabbed the appointment sign-up sheet. He was scanning the list of Dr. Goldberg's patient's names fervently, when his eyes landed upon the last name on the list...**

**"Kujaku!" he roared, "She's using her maiden name! I should've known, damn it!" He thundered off towards the glass door, flung it open, and proceeded to storm off towards the doctor's office.**

**"Sir! You're not allowed back there without an appointment! Come back!" she cried pleadingly after him, frantically heaving her bust over the desk counter in a failed attempt to dissuade him. Alas, the now empowered James Valentine paid no attention to her urgent pleas, leaving her sprawled, frustrated and distraught, atop the smooth granite counter, an interesting and quite amusing sight for a new patient that entered the facility mere moments later.

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**A/N: -Well, that was interesting...how the heck did I think that up? Anyway, the "prologue" is going to be pretty long, so I decided to update it in 2 parts. Don't worry, after the prologue is complete, I'll explain everything...sorry if it's confusing.**

**-Oh, and I hereby disclaim from owning Mai Kujaku and Yu-gi-oh, is that good enough for ya? Mai will show up...eventually.**

**-Please leave a review if you want, but I don't write because I want to, I write because I _need to._ Meaning, the main reason I'm writing this is because I have to express all the ideas in my head. Reviews are much appreciated though! - If you haven't figured it out already, this fic is my first attempt at serious writing, serious as in using a lot of complicated words like languorous and etc... There I go blabbing again...See ya next update! -Jewel**


	2. Prologue continued

1Prologue Part 2

Sylvia Valentine was perched nervously on the edge of her seat, drumming her perfectly manicured nails against the cedar wood of the office desk. She wondered to herself, _Why am I here again? Hopefully this will all turn out to be some obscure, horrible nightmare..._For a brief, fleeting instant she regretted ever walking into the hospital, and she wondered if she was really doing the right thing... However, this moment of reasoning from her conscience was suddenly broken off as the doctor's voice dragged her back into reality.

"...however, there are a few risks that are included with the procedure, the same with any surgery, of course..." explained Dr. Goldberg. Suddenly, loud thundering footsteps, and frantic, pleading shouts were heard outside Dr. Goldberg's conference room. Sylvia and the doctor had just turned around in puzzled bewilderment when the door burst open dramatically to reveal a desperate Mr. Valentine. Sylvia immediately froze, gawking at the sight of her husband, as if refusing to believe he was really there.

"J-James dear! W-What are you doing here!" Mrs. Valentine stuttered nervously, regaining at least some of her composure.

"Don't 'James dear' me, Sylvia. _I _should be the one asking you what _you're _doing here!" he retorted furiously.

"Um, excuse me..." began Dr. Goldberg, who was very perturbed about being interrupted. With a heated glare from the infuriated Mr. Valentine, however, the doctor was silenced and retreated from the office silently and hastily, closing the door behind her. James turned his attention back to his primary concern; his wife. He turned a steely, empty gaze from his emerald eyes toward her. Her quivering, teary cerulean eyes stared back at his hopeless emerald ones.

"Is it true?" he forced out reluctantly, already knowing the answer to this question.

Sylvia broke away from his stare, feeling vulnerable, and slightly ashamed; she couldn't even face him anymore. "Yes, it's all true," she said simply.

"Why?" he whispered painfully.

"James...you don't understand..." she muttered softly.

"What!" he demanded, "What don't I understand!"

In reply, his wife gave a wracking sob, hiding her face in her hands. Overtaken with remorse and pity, James pulled her up from her seat and took her gently into his arms, just holding her while she cried. If James was utterly shocked and surprised by this uncharacteristic outward display of emotion, he didn't show it. It would be logical for him to be surprised, though, after all, this was only the 2nd time in his life that he had ever seen his wife cry. He didn't know why he still loved her, after everything that had happened in their lives, but he would love her until the end of the earth, even if her love for him was purely superficial.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," she blubbered onto her husband's shoulder, clutching onto him like a lifeline. "I had the tubal ligation, remember? I wasn't supposed to get pregnant..."

"The surgery isn't always 100 successful." he interrupted her.

Having calmed down a bit, she continued, "So... when I came down here, I just wanted to ask about the procedure, and...maybe...set a date for an abortion..."

At this, she looked up at him cautiously, trying to judge the expression on his face. He looked away, hurt, "Is it because of me? You don't want my child?"

Sylvia couldn't deny everything he said, after all, it was partly true; she had never wanted to have a child. "I'm not meant to be a mother," she replied, "I never wanted to be, and you accepted it when you married me."

"I know, I wasn't meant to be a father either, but you have to accept that you're pregnant, Sylvia. Having an abortion as an easy way out of this won't solve all your problems." he commented.

"But James, my career, my body, everything is ruined now! If I'm pregnant, then I'll have to quit modeling for at least 9 months!" she claimed, distraught.

"I just don't know what to say anymore..." he replied vaguely.

"I don't know, either..." Sylvia agreed.

Nothing more needed to be said, the silence spoke for itself. Sylvia Valentine buried her face into her husband's shoulder and sighed deeply. After a while, James remembered something and decided to break the silence that loomed throughout the office.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "I also noticed that you used your maiden name, _Mrs. Kujaku_."

"Yeah," she laughed softly and musically as a wind chime, "I was hoping that you wouldn't find out..."

"So, we are keeping the baby now, Sylvia?" he asked concernedly, lifting her head from his shoulder and placing his palms upon her shoulders firmly, forcing her to meet his eyes.

"I am," she confirmed, "But only because of you."

James gave a faint, weak smile; perhaps there was a small ray of hope for them after all. "Come on, let's go home then," he said reassuringly, and together they exited the depression and hopelessness of the hospital into the darkness of the night, into the storm, which had subsided to merely a faint drizzle from above.

Several months later...

A harried and flustered Mr. Valentine rushed through the maternity wing of the exact same hospital where so much drama had taken place just a few months previously. Nurses and their patients seemingly ignored him as he sprinted through the slick hallway; apparently, this was quite a common occurrence in this part of the hospital. He paused as he reached his final destination and stared nervously at the sterile, white hospital door, before opening it calmly and quietly so as to not disturb his wife after her ordeal earlier that morning.

The nurse attending to Mrs. Valentine smiled warmly, "Say hello to your new daughter, Mr. Valentine." He smiled appreciatively as she left the room, giving him some privacy with his wife.

He approached the hospital bed cautiously and gazed upon Sylvia, who was in a peaceful, exhausted slumber. He gasped as he saw the tiny baby girl nestled in her mother's arms comfortably, also deep in slumber. Gently and carefully, as if he was afraid to break her, James picked up his newborn daughter and cradled her lovingly in his arms. He gazed at his daughter's sleeping face; she looked so innocent and angelic, she was, literally, a miracle. It saddened him deeply that her mother didn't want her and thought that her daughter was a mistake; it had taken him a long time to completely forgive his wife for wanting to secretly get an abortion. But, nevertheless, James Valentine was immensely thankful that she was born.

He leaned over and kissed his daughter softly on the forehead, mentally apologizing to her for all the hardships that were sure to come in the future. He knew that they weren't fit to be good parents to their child; his wife was much too egocentric and temperamental, her career was more important to her than her family. He, on the other hand, was too busy and influential because of his career to be a competent father. _But you can't change what happens in life,_ he thought to himself, _you can only decide what to do about it..._

As James Valentine gazed down at his newborn daughter with a smile, the baby gave a tiny, irresistibly cute yawn and opened her wide, innocent eyes. He took a sharp intake of breath as a pair of huge, gleaming, amethyst orbs stared back at him for the first time. He had never seen a pair of more beautiful eyes in his life; and never in such a unique color either. Her eyes sparkled and shined like amethysts, in such a bright, vivid violet; she was absolutely beautiful.

_"_Mai_,"_ he breathed softly to himself, "that's what her name will be." He didn't know how or why, but the name just came to him suddenly, like it was meant to be, even as if it was fate or destiny. But of course, being a businessman and a politician, ideas like fate or destiny were wholly preposterous to him.

A low, exhausted groan from the hospital bed suddenly grabbed his attention. He gave a quick glance over to Sylvia, who was now awakening, yawning and stretching her arms groggily. He walked over to her, still clutching his daughter in his arms, and she looked up at him with a mixture of surprise and, interestingly, lack of surprise.

"I'm sorry I'm late," he reassured her, "I was busy at the office. The press was having a field day."

Sylvia responded with an unladylike grunt, "I must look hideously ugly." She made a futile attempt to fix her hair, which was strewn about wildly across her pillow.

"You look beautiful, as always," he replied, smiling at his daughter, who gave a tiny, soft coo and closed her brilliant lavender eyes.

Sylvia gave a sharp chuckle, "You say I'm beautiful after 7 hours of labor?" Her eyes took on a hard, scornful look as she said, "You should see the horrible stretch marks I have, then."

Suddenly, James felt a startling vibration on the side of his belt; it was his pager. Sylvia saw him slightly jump, and peered up at him curiously as he checked his pager. He gingerly laid his beautiful daughter, now asleep, in her mother's arms, and whispered, "I have an important meeting at work, I'll be back later." With a trademark smile for his wife and a kiss for his baby girl, he had vanished out the door in the blink of an eye.

Mrs. Valentine, now a mother, just held her newborn daughter in her arms, staring sorrowfully and slightly scornfully at the child who would forever be only a living mistake to her, and mourning the loss of her perfect body. Her gaze averted to the afternoon sun outside her window, shining brilliant and bright, and signifying the new future ahead of her.

_"If there's one thing I've learned throughout my life, it's this: No one has the power to decide what happens in life...all we can do is decide what to do, how to cope when circumstances or challenges are thrown our way. No one has the power to decide when something happens in life, all we can do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us."_

A/N: Prologue Analysis:

Abortion: I know this is a really controversial subject, that's why I tried not to get too detailed about it. I got this idea from a speech I heard from a woman who actually_ survived_ an abortion when she was an infant. Today, because of the abortion, she lives with physical disorders. That really touched me, it really hit home. Just think about it for a sec. Imagine what it would be like knowing that your mother didn't want you to live, and that you shouldn't have survived to see your first birthday. The purpose of this part of the fic is really just to add the theme of mistakes and not being wanted.

Mai's parents: Sylvia Valentine was born in Japan with the last name Kujaku, but then moved to America where she became America's top model. She is completely obsessed with having a perfect body and her career. James Valentine was from a wealthy family and later became a businessman/ politician. They married each other for partly superficial and business reasons and partly attraction. He has good intentions, but is always busy with his career.

I originally wasn't going to write this part of the story, but I thought it would be interesting because no one I know of has written something like this before.

Well, that's it...I promise it will get more interesting in future chapters. Right now I'm just kinda building the foundation of the story. (O, and if you're wondering, the italics at the beginning and end are Mai's thoughts.) See ya next update! R+R! Jewel


	3. Let The Rain Fall Down

1Chapter 1: Let the Rain Fall Down

Seven years later...

Mai Valentine stood in silence as if transfixed, staring out at the pouring rain, droplets tracing patterns against the vast glass window of the mansion her parents called home. _It doesn't feel like home..._ she thought to herself, shivering from the cold and turning her attention back to the rain. She watched intently as a glimmering droplet wove its way down the glass, and sighed. Unconsciously, she reached her hands out to the window as if to touch the crystalline raindrop, but felt only cold, harsh glass as the droplet slid down the window, out of sight. She pressed herself up to the forbidding window, as if leaning into an embrace, staring fixedly through the only thing separating her from the outside world.

The sky was depressingly gray and cloudy, but to someone who had to press up against gigantic glass windows to get a good view of the sky, it looked beautifully tranquil. Rain pelted down in torrents on the majestic oak trees and stately gardens that surrounded the Valentine estate. Mai looked up through long, dark lashes and smiled, looking at the rain from a downward view, her warm breath creating fog on the window. A creative, amused look formed on her face as she drew pictures in the fog on the glass.

Two maids passing by "tisked" and shook their heads sorrowfully at the sight of the tiny, delicate blonde girl leaning up against the window, staring out at the rainstorm. One maid, by the name of Betty, felt a surge of pity at the sight and cautiously approached the young girl.

"Miss Valentine?" Betty questioned hesitantly. Mai spun around with a look of surprise on her face at the sound of the maid's voice. Then she realized that Betty had called her formally by her last name, and momentarily, a slight scowl appeared on her face as she replied curtly,"My name is Mai."

Betty was taken aback by the outgoing and forward tone of the little blonde, whom she had always thought looked so adorable and innocent. She tried her best at what she thought would look like an understanding, sympathetic smile and continued,

"Yes, Miss Valentine, I was just wondering if you need anything... perhaps some hot chocolate? It is getting awfully chilly in here..."

Mai saw the nervous, caring look in Betty's eyes and regretted her abrupt response earlier. She clutched her arms around herself and shivered, _maybe I am getting cold from the rain..._ She ceased hugging herself from cold for a moment, and looked up at Betty, attempting a weak, feeble smile. "No thank you, I'm fine."

Betty saw the smile and knew that it was a result of her kindness. She said warmly, "You wouldn't want to close the curtains, would you?"

The blonde girl clutched herself again and looked down nervously, as if she was more interested in her feet. "No," she answered, looking up again hopefully, "I like to watch the rain."

Betty nodded, understandingly, and walked over to stand by the window next to her, much to the little girl's shock and surprise. "I prefer the windows open myself," she said, "The world looks so mysterious and magical when it rains."

Mai's mouth gaped open; no adult, not even her parents, had ever spoken to her this way, or made such an effort to act like they really cared about her. _Why is she being so nice to me? _she thought, puzzled at the thought that this maid, of all people, could actually understand how she felt, or even care about her. Betty saw the confused look on the child's face and smiled, with a twinkle in her eye, which surprised Mai even further.

"Well then... if you'll excuse me Miss Mai, I'll be going. I have quite a few chores to still attend to..." Betty replied in return to Mai's silence, "Just call for Betty whenever you need anything, and I'll come by and visit." With that the maid withdrew from the room.

Mai stood staring in the direction Betty had left for a while, pondering quietly to herself... _Does she actually want to be friends with me? Why? _Then she remembered that Betty had called her by her first name, and smiled while shaking her head slightly, her golden curls dancing gracefully through the air. Her hair was a light golden blonde, with wavy curls elegantly cascading down her back; a few obnoxious curls broke free furthering the effect, and refusing to stay in line with the rest of her hair. A few waves of long blonde hair settled delicately around her heart-shaped face, framing it beautifully, and a few stray curls always managed to escape, dangling around the side of her face or in the middle of her forehead. She turned once again to face the window, noticing that the rain was gradually subsiding, but this time a smile graced her lips, brightening her face and enhancing her beauty. She had delicate porcelain white skin, partly from her lack of going outdoors in the sunlight very often, and partly because that was the natural color of her skin. A natural pink blush graced her cheeks, giving her an innocent, angelic look, and her lips were like beautiful rose petals, similar in color and even shape. Her lips occasionally gave way to awkward or shy smiles when in the presence of others, but even a shy smile was capable of dazzling others; however, she rarely laughed. But when gazing upon her, the first thing you noticed was her eyes, curving upward elegantly and framed by long, dark eyelashes. What struck you most about her eyes after noticing their exquisite beauty, was their intensity. Her eyes were like deep, never-ending pools of lavender that would entrance the viewer if he dared to stare deep into them for longer than a moment. Her eyes were known to sparkle with the brilliance of violet stars when she was enthralled or exuberant, and also flamed intensely as if on fire when she was aroused or angered. A glare from her violet eyes was strong enough to even knock a man off his feet, as she would find out many years later. However, the heartbreaking expression in her eyes as she gazed out the window and pressed up against the rain-streaked glass was one of profound sadness and loss, a deep violet color replacing the lighter lavender, from some unknown inner pain or experience that only her eyes would ever reveal. The rain reflected in her dazzling lavender eyes, and with a pang in her heart that almost made her wince, she desperately wished with all of her being and all of her heart that she was outside standing, soaked in the rain, rather than being trapped in this cold, harsh, glass prison that was supposed to be her home... at this thought she closed her eyes and sank into daydreaming, which she often did...

In her seven- year-old mind, she was gloriously running through the rain, like she'd never run before, arms stretched out to their furthest, head tilted back to feel the gentle raindrops embrace her cheeks, legs running as fast as they could, with no care of where they were going; she was completely innocent and carefree... she stopped and twirled herself around and around, stretching out her palms to catch the rain, and peering up at the cloudy sky in complete ecstasy. Suddenly, Splat! She fell down in a mud puddle, completely ruining her classy, and extremely expensive dress and shoes, which had turned from a pale periwinkle color into a murky, muddy brown. She felt a tickle in her throat, and opened her lips, releasing a mirthful laugh. To her great surprise, she couldn't care less about her frilly, lacy dress, made of the finest silk, and began tearing off the layers of lace and silk ribbon that imprisoned her. With a cry of glee, she threw off her equally expensive shoes, and they landed in the mud with a thunk. She smiled wryly, knowing that if her elegant, sophisticated mother saw her she would faint in horror. She tilted back her long neck and laughed at the image this thought produced, feeling glimmering raindrops in her long eyelashes and running down her cheeks but not caring, her dampened blonde locks clinging to her sodden clothing...

Mai presently awoke from her reverie, and with a jolt was forced back into reality. She disappointedly realized that she was still in the vast, cold, empty mansion; all alone. She glanced around at the spacious, luxurious room that would have made any ordinary child fume with jealousy, but felt absolutely nothing. A feeling of overwhelming emptiness and loneliness began to consume her, but she hardened her heart to shield her from the pain..._It's not like I'm unfamiliar with the feeling of being alone..._she thought inwardly.

Even from the day she was born, Mai knew the feeling of being alone and unwanted...just before her mother and father were married, her mother had had a tubal ligation, for her own selfish, superficial reasons. Mai's mother was one of the most successful, popular supermodels in the country, and had been on the cover of countless magazines, making her seem to all the world, especially the men, (who were more interested in looking at her body than her face) like the perfect, ideal woman. She had worked hard for her body and her image, as well as her fame, and despised the idea of "ruining" her perfect body by becoming pregnant. Her fame, wealth, and beauty were more important to her than the prospect of becoming a mother, and she feared losing her career more than anything else. Therefore, she went through with the surgery, hoping to never deal with the possibility of getting pregnant.

Mai was a mistake; a year later, her mother discovered, to her dismay and horror, she had "accidentally" become pregnant. She visited the doctor, furious that the surgery was ineffective, and demanding an abortion. Mai later found out that the only reason she existed today, and was ever born, was because at that very moment, her father strode into the hospital and talked some sense into her hysterical mother. Eventually, Mai was born, on November 20th, that year; her mother didn't even want to see her at first, because she was mourning over the loss of her perfect image. She was placed into her father's arms, and he noticed her beautiful violet eyes, even more beautiful than her mother's eyes, which were a cold, unfeeling blue. Unknown to anyone, her father had then wondered where the unusual color of her eyes had come from, since no one from either side of their family had ever had such lavender-colored eyes. For a moment, he wondered if there was something special about this child, some reason that she was born, some reason that she had such unique eyes...a destiny...just then, a name for her came to him...Mai, Mai Valentine. The vibration of his pager interrupted his thoughts, and just as quickly as he had come, he was gone, off to another press conference that was supposedly "urgent," more important than the birth of his first, and only, child. For the moment, Mai was placed in her mother's arms, who looked down at the child who would forever be a mistake to her.

Mai knew she was a mistake, she was unwanted, even by her own parents, and cried inwardly every time her parents called her their "miracle baby." She didn't feel miraculous or special in any kind of way, even though her father constantly called her his "precious." The word _mistake_ haunted her mind, she could see it in her parents' eyes, in their forced smiles and laughter whenever they were around her, (which wasn't often), in the way they acted stiff and formal around her. She was never intended to exist; nothing but a mistake...

_A/N I know all the readers are wondering why I haven't updated, and believe me, I'm sincerely sorry, but I have one heck of a good excuse...I have been at the hospital every other day visiting my grandma. For hours I sat in that hospital room, watching one of the people I loved most slowly slip away, not being able to do anything about it. I would've given ANYTHING if I could have saved her life, or even just have one last conversation with her. I don't even know if she knew I was there, but I hope to god that she knows that I love her with all my heart. I just found out that she passed away today, and I don't know whether to feel devastated, or relieved that she's no longer suffering..._

_Cherish the time you have with your family and friends! Live every little insignificant moment to its fullest! Let your loved ones know exactly how much they mean to you, before it's too late... _


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